Where Can You Go Quiet

By: Arsimmer McCoy for

Maven Leadership Collective

June 22, 2022

Maven Leadership Collective commissioned poet Arsimmer McCoy (she | her)  to write a poem about the need for rest. She delivered the poem at Maven Moves & Vibes on April 20, 2022. This event was produced in collaboration with O, Miami for their annual poetry festival.

Anxious shoulders
Locked elbows
Drained knuckles
and calloused fingertips
Dropped jaw and pulsing inner ear
Nose concealed, stuffed, and
searching for
Neck failing to do its job of carrying the head
I’m a sight to see at 4am
fighting with dusk
licking the cold from my eye
Bringing my hands back to my sides
Hunched over watching floaters behind my eyelids
My Torso sits rested and latched into my hips
Sending signals to my thighs to find
the gumption to keep me steady
My tendons feel tethered to some other
source
It won’t let my feet stop moving through ground
Heel to ball, one in front of the other
Planting them selves
I stand in front of the bathroom mirror
I do a once over
I see cheeks that are sunken
Lips parting
letting out a cool breath
I’m a sight to see at 4am
Talking to myself and answering
Searching
Searching for
I can’t force this motivation any longer
This long dance with resilience got me
Flailing my arms to a repetitive meter
A simple triple
on my tip-toes
Knees knocked backed
Calves cursing the weakness
of my ankles
Spine spilling secrets
to my pelvis
that i’m
Searching for
Searching for
a reason to
I’m a sight to see at 4am
When I’m walking wildy
Trying to pace how I inhale
Slight respite on the release
All this weight is now
Just TOOOOOO damn heavy
Searching
Searching for
Searching for
A reason to
continue.
I do not stop
to consider
My HEART.
A body in flux
Is always chasing.
Where can you go quiet?
What peace do you give yourself
for being too good at the bounce back?
When does your joy take precedent
To the hustle you make gospel?
How would 4am feel
if you let your breath be a reminder
you are ALIVE,
and worthy of sun naps on a back porches.
Take time to Empty out the insides
and start all over again.
Fill it with grace and the groove that makes
your Auntie dance.
Honor her and the other bodies in flux,
by denying tired eyes
as validation.
You would do well to bend time to your will.
To not see the power
in listening to the Mourning Doves gossip,
from your bed,
at 4am,
is a sad wish for the failing patient.
Is a mockery to the forced cracked necks,
the fingers draining the sap,
snapping the peas,
Stitching the burlap,
digging the graves.
A mockery to the Lungs thrown over picket lines
and the unleashed sigh of old bones
releasing the hold on cooling boards.
At 4am,
Nobody needs a thing from you.
And even if they did,
at 4am,
they have no right to.
You are deserving of all good things.
Including steady breath,
a relaxed heart,
a realized mission.
A body in flux is just the symptom.
The seduction that your worth is weighted in gold
Is the disease.
Find the cure in the calm you should allow
Yourself.
Cause at 4am you can let your thoughts
run
searching for reasons to continue
or you could just
be